Jasmine
by brookeisabaddie
Summary: Clarke/Bellamy: Clarke has an attitude-she's witty, she's quick with the comebacks and she always knows what to say to get under his skin. REVIEW. This is a comedy mostly...well, at least it's supposed to be funny. -Brooke.
1. Chapter 1

She could still taste the jasmine from her specialized mixture of moonshine when she rolled over in her tent. Her hair was tangled and had a little bit of dirt in it from her lack of a pillow. She'd given it away to a younger girl who had come to see her about chronic neck pain. It was another sleepy morning where the sun was just high enough to give her a slight headache. She stood up, moved back the flap and headed to her second home- the medical bay. She might have been hung-over but she didn't care, she could still do her job. She was functioning just fine with at least two drinks a night and who was anyone to tell her any different?

She hit the radio button so she could wake up- the sound of "Often" by Weeknd started vibrating the drop ship. The music was from 2014 but that didn't matter much to her- it was explicit and it made her feel like the party was still going strong from last night. She swayed back and forth to the beat while she prepared for another day of stupid mistakes. She was singing along with the song when Bellamy knocked on the side of the metal frame.

Bellamy enjoyed the sight of Clarke dancing along with the music in the drop ship just as he'd enjoyed how she danced with him last night. The way her head fell right into his neck as she slowly grinded into him. Of course, her drink was spilling over her hands as she teased him repeatedly with her _those_ hips. But everyone was drunk last night- and the night before- and the night before because it was too damn depressing to admit that everyone was dead on the Ark. "Can you turn it down?" Bellamy asked her with raised eyebrows.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned it off completely. "You need something?" She liked to play this game with Bellamy- she pretended she didn't remember dancing with him, she pretended she didn't remember how she whispered in his ear _"I want you" _and how he said "I want you too" with evident dripping sexual desire or how she would fall into her tent and leave him searching for her all night. He would play along and they would never talk about the sexual tension or desire that seemed to suffocate every small space they walked into together.

"The party's cancelled tonight. It seems like major storm clouds are coming in from the East." Bellamy said. She thought he looked disappointed with the news. How was she going to get her kicks off when they weren't going to be allowed to blend in with the crowd of horny teenagers? She might have still been drunk when she walked over to Bellamy and kissed his neck sloppily before exiting the drop ship. She just wanted him to have something to remember her by when he brought some whore into his tent to ride out the storm. It was childish- maybe- but so worth the high. Who was she to deny him of his nightly dose of Clarke? Oh, yeah—said Clarke—that was her. She wasn't Clarke when she played their game? She was _Princess. _

Bellamy followed her, having no real reason to stay in the med-bay. He watched as she pulled her jacket closer to her, rubbed her neck as if it hurt and waved at Monty. He smirked at the way she tripped a little because she was hung-over just like everyone else. It reminded him that she had her "moments" just like everyone else but Clarke still had a shiny halo over her head in his eyes. She eventually reached the middle of the camp and raised her hands and yelled to get their people's attention. "Hey, if you could all direct your attention to the East. Yes, those are clouds. Yes, that means there is possibly a storm tonight. Do not panic, we've made it through a hurricane and we can make it through a little rain." She announced, "Now please prepare yourselves. Don't do anything that seems extremely dangerous unless you have to. Keep the volume down. Thank you."

The crowd dispersed and Bellamy walked over to her. He was breaking the first and most important rule of the game. "What was that?" It shocked her that he even asked. He knew better—or at least she was under the assumption that he knew better.

"Nothing." She shrugged.

Bellamy shook his head at her, "Princess, can we break character for a moment and talk like rational people?"

"Sure." She crossed her arms automatically, "Like I said it was nothing. I'm just trying to have fun Bellamy- I never have fun. It's my turn, right?"

"You want to have fun?" He smirked, "I can show you all different types of fun that will make this little game you're playing look like child's play."

"Not interested." She was extremely interested. The way his dark eyes were looking into hers, the way she saw him leaning towards her- he wanted her to take him up on his offer and she was half inclined to grab his arm and pull him into the nearest tent. "Well…unless you can do something for me."

"What?" She knew he was hanging by a thread and willing to do anything right now- unless it was begging, he had too much pride to beg.

She tapped her cheek, "Right here."

He hesitated at the simplicity of her request before he leaned forward and pressed his lips softly against her cheek. Something clicked inside of him- she was breaking him down. It was her game, she wanted to be in charge. They were in a war for dominance and he was losing it- terribly. He hadn't kissed her yet- she hadn't kissed him either. They looked at each other- testing one another's strength as they stayed in that position. He smirked at her, "I did as you asked, Princess."

"Aww, still not interested buddy." She patted his cheek with her soft hand. "I'm going to _ride…" _His eyes widened with her words. "…out this storm with my friends. If you get hurt or something, feel free to wait until the rain stops."

"Denying medical treatment, too?"

"Should have kissed me sweeter."

"You're not going to win this."

"I probably wouldn't have a chance if you were using that grand-leader mind of yours. But you're using Bellamy Jr. instead."

"You did not just name my…"

"Need a word bank?"

"That's not cool, Clarke." He said, "At all."

She shrugged, "On a more serious note—don't do anything stupid, today…okay? If something _important _comes up I'll most likely be in the drop ship with those who are smart enough to take shelter."

"You really going to make me suffer some more?"

She smirked, "You know it."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

She turned her face up to the rumbling sky at the sound of thunder. She felt the ground vibrate underneath her feet and closed her eyes, holding out her tongue to the droplets. She heard the laughter erupting from her friend's mouths around her but she couldn't pinpoint their exact locations. Their laughter was blended with the sound of heavy bass music playing from the drop ship. Bellamy may have cancelled the party, but she hadn't. She felt like a child, innocent and clean underneath the pouring water that soaked her form. Her gray shirt stuck to her like a second skin as she spun in circles to one of her favorite songs.

Octavia's girlish giggle caused her to open her eyes and move towards her. The younger Blake radiated happiness—something Clarke wanted in her life. "This is so fun!" She yelled over everyone and Clarke nodded her head in agreement. Octavia reached for her shirt, pulling it over her head. It wasn't the last article of clothing that Octavia removed from her body but it was the first. Clarke followed her lead, tossing both of their sets of clothes towards the dry drop ship.

Octavia grabbed Clarke's hands, backing up and stretching both of their limbs so it looked like their arms were axels to a wheel. They started to spin, slow at first and then they became faster. She heard the music and the music only as the area around them became a midnight blur. She was positive that it was at least midnight—probably later. Clarke couldn't stop smiling as the wind wrapped around her nearly bare figure. The moment felt perfect. If the world went to hell, she would remember spinning in the rain to century old music with a good friend. She would remember feeling clean and she would remember how it smelt like _home. _

Clarke and Octavia broke apart but continued to spin next to each other with their arms outstretched by their sides rather than in front of them. "Seriously best storm of my life!" Clarke yelled to Octavia, not knowing if she would hear her or not.

"I can't say that I'm not enjoying the view!" Bellamy's voice made her stop spinning and the collective dizziness of her night hit her all at once. She still managed to smirk at him when his face fell at the sight of his half-naked sister. "Octavia!" He yelled, "Get some clothes on! Now!"

She shot him the finger, stomping towards the drop ship before casting a glance over her shoulder at Clarke. "Best storm ever." She agreed while kneeling to grab her wet clothes. Bellamy snapped his fingers at Jasper and Monty to look away from his sister, which they did immediately. His sharp glare in their direction caused them to walk back to their tent.

"Is this how you ride out storms, now?" He asked her when they were alone. "I like it. I thought there was going to be more of a crowd in the ship."

"No. The storm is moderate." Clarke explained, crossing her arms over her breast to conceal some of her skin. She looked towards the stack of her clothes debating if she should put on the wet attire or not. She could sleep in her underwear and let them dry in her tent overnight…they might feel better because of their wash. Speaking of sleep, "Did we wake you?"

"Kind of, yeah." Bellamy said, "You going to come back to my tent tonight, princess or are you going to run away like usual?"

"Depends…you have a pillow?" She thought about the discomfort of sleeping in her tent.

"Two." Bellamy said confidently, "Why?"

"I like pillows." Clarke said like he was an idiot for asking, "I guess I can stop by for eight hours."

He wasn't prepared for the response but he welcomed it. He watched her bend over to pick up her clothes, staring at her ass mostly. He smirked at the thought of her completely naked. Her underwear didn't leave much to the imagination but he was hoping he wouldn't have to use his imagination for anything after the night ended.

He wanted to see her curves illuminated by the small candle Monty created for each tent. She didn't slip in any of her wet clothing. She walked through a camp of horny teenagers in her underwear with bravery he wish he had—part of him wanted to be a little smug with himself. What if she did this knowing that he would always protect her? He would always protect her from any of the people in the camp unless she was directly asking for it. He just wasn't sure he could protect her from himself.

If he were a man with unlimited amounts of self-control, he would never let it go this far. He lacked in the self-control area, which was evident in everything he did. He made up for it with his sexual prowess, though, ask sixty-seven percent of the girls above the age of sixteen in the camp. She pulled back the flap of his tent like it was her private area. He saw her smile when she saw his bed but she didn't immediately fall into it like he wanted her to. She laid out her clothes away from the flap so the rain wouldn't continue to wet them.

She hesitated before she stepped to his bed moving to sit on the edge of it. Her eyes met his and he returned her look of questions and _want. _He grabbed the back of his shirt and tugged until it fell on the ground. She slowly blinked at his body, taking in the look of his skin without being ashamed to stare. He didn't say anything about her wandering eyes. She felt the rumored spark of electricity when he crouched down, crawling towards her on the bed—she felt the sudden shift of his weight being applied to the mattress. His hand gripped the frame by her thigh, one of his legs were hanging off the other end of the bed while he was propped up on one of his knees. She moved both of her legs around his arm, easing underneath him. She grabbed his wrist from the edge of the bed and lightly pulled him so his face would hang over her own.

Clarke felt like she was having a heart attack underneath his strong body. He was truly beautiful—beautiful to the point where she didn't understand it. She thought the sky was beautiful, she thought space was beautiful. Now she could add Bellamy to the list of beauty she was compiling when beauty was only a memory. "What are you thinking about?" His eyes shifted from her lips to her blue orbs. She was enchanted by his husky voice.

She didn't answer his question, her hand reached up and touched the nape of his neck. The small action caused him to part his lips before he closed the distance between the two. His kiss was hot and full of a certain craving for more and more…until she had no more to give him. Their noses touched as he pressed down on her slightly. Their thrusting tongues between teeth elicited sounds she didn't know she was capable of making. It was so exquisite that she felt an unnatural breathlessness when their kiss was broken.

She saw the twinkle in his brown eyes before he dipped his head down to her voluptuous chest, placing small open mouth kisses across her smooth, clean skin. She reached behind her own back, her arm rubbing against his as she unclasped her bra. He didn't wait to place a calloused hand over her breast. She grew taut with anticipation. Her mouth salivating as she longed to kiss him again. She felt her hunger deep in the pits of her stomach. She felt underfed, suddenly. He began to knead her breast, watching her areolas quiver under his tender touch as they hardened more.

She licked her lips as a pleasing shiver ran down her spine when his tongue darted from his mouth to the tip of her nipple. "Do you like that, princess?" She narrowed her eyes at him because it was obvious that she did. She nodded her head anyway for his amusement. He kissed down her stomach, stopping just shy of the band to her underwear. He traced his way back up her skin to her mouth where he kissed her harder than before. Her body pressed up to his while they kissed, her hand resting on his face as he arms wrapped around her bare back.

His thumb trailed down her right side and she moaned, "Bellamy, I don't want to wait anymore." He nodded, moving off her for a second to take off the rest of his clothes. She slipped off her underwear, grabbing the blanket when she felt the chill of him not being on her. His mouth connected with her neck before she was aware that he'd even moved back on top of her. He pushed the blanket down to his lower back because he knew how heated things were about to get between them. He reached for left calf, hiking it up around his waist as he positioned himself at her opening.

He was greeted by her slick wetness and then the tightness of her. He groaned as he pushed into her, allowing her to adjust to his length. He felt her nails in the side of his arm as she squirmed underneath him. She bit her lip—something he found completely adorable and sexy—as she started to get comfortable with him. When her grip on his arm lessened, he started to thrust deep into her—pulling out and then repeating the motion.

A throaty moan passed her lips as he moved in and out of her. Her leg started to slip from his waist but he took hold of her ankle before it could fall. She was the _best. _Not because she had a long list of experience but because they fit each other. Her physical assets were something he admired but the euphoric connection they had made it the _best. _She was someone he could see himself continuing a causal relationship with.

But Clarke wasn't the casual relationship type. If she were, she wouldn't be so…so painfully innocent underneath him. She talked a big game but he could s_ee _it in her eyes—how woefully inexperienced she was when it came to sex. "Bellamy…" His name was a whisper as he felt her hips move with his. He leaned down, pressing his mouth against hers only to be greeted by the vibration of another moan. He swallowed it, letting his tongue massage hers as he closed his eyes.

The muscles in his back moved as he continued to thrust into her until he felt her begin to shake. He broke their kiss, concentrating only on moving faster in her so she could reach her climax. Her moans were broken and frequent as she reached for anything and everything as a way to maintain her stability. Bellamy offered her his hand, pinning hers beneath his and intertwining their fingers. He found the hot blush on her face intoxicatingly wonderful as she arched her back and let out a hard gasp.

He groaned, kissing her neck as he continued to drive into her at the same speed. He felt it coming as her fingers tangled in the small hairs by his neck. "Clarke…" He said her name so she knew it was _her _and her _alone _sending him over the edge like this. He soon found himself breathless as he rolled off her, completely spent—completely empty. He didn't realize that he'd taken her hand with him until she untangled their fingers long enough to roll on her stomach. She returned her hands to his, her tired gaze aimed at his cheek.

"So…about these pillows. Really soft." She said which caused him to laugh. "Honestly, how was that?"

"Superior." He said with a grin.

"You just boosted my ego, thank you."

"Can I recant?"

"No sir." She giggled, pulling the blanket to cover her naked body.

"What are you doing, princess?"

She glared at him, "I'm not going to have some creep walking in your tent and ogling me while you're asleep." She made a valid point and he let her continue to cover up her body. "So are we going to lie to ourselves and each other and say that's never going to happen again or…?"

"Oh, trust me, it's happening again." He said, "You don't piss away great sex over some type of pride problem."

"Wow, you're really making improvements as a person."

"I'm much more agreeable when you're naked."

"Lesson learned."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Her small hand pulled the tattered fabric back while he slept. She casted a cautious eye towards his sleeping figure—watching his chest rise and fall longer than she should have. She convinced herself that she wasn't the type to get wrapped up in cuddles and kisses anymore. She enjoyed the warmth of a body against hers, sure. She enjoyed every breathy thrust and easy moan, yes. But she was never going to spoon with Bellamy Blake—the main reason being the fact that he was a major jackass.

Her fingers drifted through her knotty waves as she stepped into her tent. She looked down at the mediocre pallet and frowned. "Should have grabbed one of those fucking pillows, Clarke." She told herself, raising her eyebrows and letting out an annoyed sigh. _I shouldn't have done that… _She thought as she settled on her flimsy blanket and looked at the cloth walls of her tent. Her hand ventured to her mouth, her index finger trailing across her swollen lips. How long had it been since someone kissed her?

Clarke shook the thought because she _really_ couldn't go there. A defeated, tired sound came from her as she positioned herself for sleep. Her tent was sacred place to her despite its bareness. She put up boundaries a long time ago when it came to her privacy—no one was allowed in her tent. She was the _princess _and people assumed it was because she thought she was an elitist that deserved her space. In all actuality, it was because she didn't want people to see how she punished herself. This was her purgatory for not doing _more _on the Ark—for not caring _more _about the lower classes.

She thought she deserved a loveless relationship and shitty living arrangements.

_One…_

_Two…_

_Three…_

Three hours passed as she restlessly tossed and turned. It was hard to sleep with moderate regret, misplaced nausea, and a weird excitement feeling in her stomach. She spent the majority of the early morning tracing every stain on the fabric that shielded her from the rain and falling leaves. The first sign of light prompted her to lift herself on her elbows. She blinked, biting her lip before jumping up and straightening herself. She could wait for sleep that would never come or she could be productive. She chose productivity rather than wishful thinking.

There was something eerie about the empty camp, something that made her skin crawl. The dim light and the mud reminded her of the warzones she used to read about it textbooks. Their pitiful attempts of shelter were becoming more and more bothersome as the days went on. They were going to have to accept no one was going to save them and they were alone on this one. Ultimately, they were lucky to have gifted and talented people on the ground with them. She made a mental note to express her thoughts to those people once the ground dried and they returned to normalcy. She had a feeling that the teenagers would be off-balance for a few days because of the change in routine.

Clarke realized she'd reached a brick wall in things to do around the drop ship after she stared at the perfectly aligned supplies. If she reached for any of the limited resources, she would officially be insane. Her hands constantly moved the materials around when she had something weighing on her mind—it was the first time that there was nothing for her to do but sit in silence. _So much for productivity_, she thought as she clucked her tongue. She took a seat on the metal table and scrunched up her nose. The musky darkness of the drop ship was dreary—the whole fucking place was dreary. She kicked her feet back and forth for a few minutes as she thought of particularly nothing.

She never realized she was humming until her mind refocused on her actions rather than what could be done about camp morale. They could continue the parties but how long could that _really _last? They were pushing adulthood. Hell, Bellamy was an adult. Eventually there would be other goals in their lives rather than getting drunk and playing stupid ass drinking games—sustainability being one of those goals. She figured that's why she was considered a leader…she thought of these things before the majority did.

"That's your thinking face, Clarke." Monty said as he walked into the drop ship with a yawn. "Crazy night last night, right?"

"Yeah." She agreed, "Crazy night."

Monty leaned against the table and looked at his friend. "You didn't hit the bottle much last night." He remarked, "That mean we have something to worry about or does it mean that you don't like my brew anymore?"

Clarke shrugged, "Neither. I was distracted, I guess."

"I know I was distracted last night. How the hell did Jasper and I manage to be with not only one hot half-naked girl, but two?"

"It's called the friend zone—a place where Octavia and I feel safe enough to strip down to our underwear and dance around freely."

"Damn. Isn't that a sad place to be…" Monty's humor caused Clarke to crack a smile. "So, where did you and Bellamy sneak off?"

Clarke looked over at him and shrugged, "I don't know about him, but I went to bed. Octavia continue the party at your tent?"

Monty nodded, "For a while. She fell asleep there. You think Bellamy understands the definition of friend zone enough to not kill Jasper?"

"You might want to sneak her out when you see our rebel king parading around the camp." Clarke said with a small giggle, "For everyone's sake. I don't want to hear about it. You don't want to hear about it. Octavia doesn't want to hear about it. And if he wakes up and his sister is in your tent, we will all hear about it because he yells."

"Gives me a fucking headache." Monty snorted.

"Me too." Clarke said, "Did you need something or were you just walking around to clear your head?"

Monty remembered why he was in the drop ship in the first place, "I was just going to make sure you had everything you needed when it came to herbs."

"Oh…yeah, I'm good." Clarke furrowed her brows as she thought about her supplies. She knew everything about them. One could say she was a supplies expert, "The seaweed is practically full and it's the lowest thing I have…we've been pretty adamant about maintaining a decent supply. If you want to take a trip to get more, we can do that later today."

"Why later? We're awake and we're capable of doing it ourselves." Monty said, "I can meet you at the gate in five and we can be back before anyone's awake."

"Fine." Clarke said, "Yeah. Meet you in five."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

The dark blue color extended from her knee down to the ragged hem of her jeans. She frowned in annoyance with the wet fabric but it was her own fault. They were just outside the gate and Monty was talking endlessly about the types of flowers they passed during their trip. Monroe stood up from her post, glaring at Monty and Clarke. "Don't fall asleep on the job, then." Clarke replied to what she assumed were ugly thoughts going through Monroe's head. She was not in the mood for anyone's attitude. She was tired. She was sore. She just wanted to face plant into the ground and _sleep. _

It seemed like most of the inhabitants of the camp were still in their tents. At that realization, she considered catching a few hours. It was only a _thought _in the end, though. She wasn't going to sleep while everyone else was awake because that would be unfair. She made her own personal choices to stay away with her friends and then Bellamy. Now, she would just have to live with them until the camp decided to sleep again.

Monty helped her pack the seaweed while continuing his chatter on types of flowers. Clarke nodded along so she didn't seem rude. Occasionally, her eyes would go in and out of focus as he talked and she would feel a sudden amount of sleepiness but she pushed it away. "I'm going to see if Bellamy is awake because I haven't seen Jasper or Octavia."

Clarke moved her head in agreement, not hearing him until he walked out of the drop ship. Her face threatened to fall into her hands so she walked over to the speaker system, hitting the power button with a little too much force. She turned up the volume and focused on the lyrics. "All of You" by Betty Who vibrated the metal walls and she started humming along. It wasn't her usual explicit music but it had a nice rhythm to it. It would keep her awake as long as it didn't convert into a piano solo or something relaxing.

She hated to say that the song reminded her of Bellamy but it was expected—they'd just hooked up hours ago and she couldn't help her subconscious comparability methods especially when she was so _beat. _She heard footsteps and assumed her group of misfits were walking in the drop ship after evading Bellamy's uncontrollable wrath. "I like the song, Clarke!" Octavia yelled over the music, "But some of us are hung over and don't want to lose our hearing."

Clarke reached over, turning the knob down until the song wasn't anything but a murmur. She smiled at her friend, "Some of us—by us, I mean you, should slow down when it comes to drinking."

"Hypocrite!" Octavia said, appalled and laughing at Clarke's statement. "You drink twice as much as me when you're in the partying mood. By the way, you're such a loser for going to bed last night. We were two drinks away from making out."

Jasper's face turned red, "You two wouldn't really…would you?"

"I guess we'll never know." Clarke said teasingly, "We did dance in the rain in our underwear though. I feel like it would only be proper of me to wait until I made out with you."

"Such a lady." Octavia winked, "Why are your pants wet?"

"Monty and I went on a trip this morning." Clarke shrugged, "No big deal."

"Does my brother know about this trip that was no big deal?"

"Does your brother know you stayed the night with Jasper and Monty?" Clarke countered, "We made it back alive. I count that as a win. The grounders are at a ceasefire, we weren't murdered. It's cool."

"When Bell finds out, I want you to use that speech." Octavia said, amused by her lack of effort. "So, are we all getting wasted tonight or what?"

Jasper and Monty looked at each other, "If we are it'd give us something to do. We could brew the best batch ever."

"I love how you always strive for better." Clarke said, "You two are my daily motivation, I swear." The two boys laughed, walking out of the drop ship deep in conversation concerning their new batch. Octavia and Clarke found themselves in their own conversation but it was small talk that had no real meaning.

"When do you think Bellamy will let Lincoln in camp?"

Clarke shrugged, "I can try to talk to him."

"How?" Octavia snorted, "You two barely get along. He only listens to you when you're yelling at him and you have a valid point…but if you can come up with a few good excuses to have Lincoln around—what's the harm? Who am I to prevent you from giving me what I want? I swear to god, though, if you make this worse for me…I will make sure you never get a drop of that new batch. You know, on second thought…I should probably talk to him but when I talk to him it's always a fight—well, it's always a fight when you talk to him too…I just…I don't know. Maybe-"

"You're rambling." Clarke said, "Most likely because you haven't seen him in a long time and you miss him and you have this idea in your head that Bellamy will welcome him with open arms automatically rather than needing persuasion and time. It'll probably get worse before it gets better…but I know Bellamy will come around because he doesn't want to lose you."

"Thanks for saying that."

"Just remember he's ultimately a jackass and nothing will change that."

"How could I ever forget?"

Octavia eventually left the drop ship because of boredom. She said she had things to do but Clarke knew she didn't want to spend another second making meaningless conversation about nothing. Clarke didn't even want to spend another second making meaningless conversation and it was the only thing keeping her awake. "_Maybe I'm too busy being yours to fall for somebody new…" _She sung in her slightly off-key voice while she waited for someone to sprain their ankle or break a finger or something.

No such luck.

Finn walked into the drop ship with Raven close behind him. He smiled at Clarke for a second before adverting his eyes. She remained strong, "What's up?" She directed her question to Raven because she preferred not to talk to Finn.

"Heard rumors of a party tonight." Raven said, "Anything we can do to help?"

Clarke shrugged, "There's a party every night. I don't see how this one is any different."

"You know everyone gets excited when Monty and Jasper publicly announced their best moonshine yet." Raven continued to talk and Clarke smiled at her words. "Octavia is claiming it's going to be the wildest night of everyone's life. I'm sure Bellamy will love _that_."

"Is—um, is he awake yet?" Clarke asked, "Have you seen him?"

"No…why?" Finn was the one that answered her.

"I'm sort of waiting for him to yell at me for leaving the camp with Monty this morning." Clarke told Raven as if Finn wasn't there.

"Oh I heard you got an attitude with Monroe."

Clarke shrugged, "She was staring at me."

"Wow, badass Clarke is a mean bitch." Raven joked, "Whatever. If Bellamy gives you shit, just kick him where it hurts."

"Bellamy should mind his own business." Finn interjected, "Take it up with someone who can actually fight back."

Clarke's mouth dropped open, "I can handle myself when it comes to Bellamy."

"Kind of insulting to imply that she can't, Finn. Clarke's a big girl." Raven patted his back, "Well if you don't have anything for us to do, we better go." She nearly pushed her boyfriend out of the door. Clarke turned around, hitting her hands. She could wake Bellamy up but that would defeat the purpose of leaving in the first place, wouldn't it? By leaving, she was establishing that it was _only _sex. Plus, what kind of dumbass wakes up the person that's going to scream and yell at them? Not her. And Finn…Finn needed to leave her alone. It was his _fault _that she left in the first place, wasn't it? He taught her a valuable lesson when it came to sex—don't stick around long enough to get your feelings hurt.

Suddenly, she just wanted to get drunk.

Really.

Fucking.

Drunk.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

Clarke lingered around Monty and Jasper as they "perfected" their brew with herbs and slight changes in temperature and time. They were on the verge of aggravating her because of their new time limit. Her vow to get wasted was sinking as she tapped her fingers against her arm impatiently. She stole a glance to the west just in time to see Bellamy walking out of his tent. His face was twisted into a flustered expression. Her mouth slightly parted at the sight of him, the edges of her lips threatening to turn up in a smile. She looked down at Jasper, who was crouching around the small fire, so he wouldn't catch her staring.

Her own stupidity got the better of her because she looked back up to him only to find Monroe talking to him. His face had changed—he no longer looked flustered, but highly pissed off. "Snitch." She mumbled at the sight, deciding she needed to make herself scarce unless she wanted to deal with his horrible attitude. "Hey Monty…" Clarke interrupted Jasper and Monty's conversation, "I think we should hide." She moved her head in the direction of Bellamy and Monroe.

"Yeah, agreed. You got this right?" He asked Jasper. Jasper laughed and nodded at the insinuation that he didn't know what he was doing. "Last place Bellamy would look for us?"

"Top floor of the drop ship?" Clarke suggested, "Although it would be risky to make a run for the ship when the lower floor is my typical domain. Shit."

Jasper said, "You better run now because he's spotted you two. Oh, you got a second because Miller just intercepted."

"You go left, I go right?" Monty said.

"That only saves your ass because he's more likely to go after me." Clarke hissed, "We could take it like men."

"But that just sucks." Monty said, "Too late now, I suppose."

"Drop to the ground and grab your ankle or something!" Jasper suggested, "Or side…" Monty kicked Clarke in the leg, causing her to lose her footing and hit the mud. "Not Clarke, Monty…you…whatever, man. Miller's walking away…"

"Ow!" Clarke yelped, holding the burning spot on the back of her leg. "That fucking hurt!" She glared up at Monty who shot her an apologetic look. His fierce kick was definitely going to bruise her fair skin—she was sure they'd laugh about it later but she wasn't laughing about it at the moment. Clarke stood up quickly and darted away from her friend "leaving him to die." She smiled back at him, limping slightly with the pain as she ran. "You can deal with him."

It was a good plan in theory but she soon realized Bellamy didn't _want _Monty—he wanted her. Clarke was a resourceful person. She didn't want to fight with him. She didn't have the energy to fight with him. "Clarke, princess…" He was using his calm, angry voice. She hated when he attempted to be calm because he only ended up exploding in a fit of anger. "So I woke up and noticed you'd left. Mildly confused because I thought we agreed we weren't going to fight this. Actually thought we could get in another round before we parted ways. Little annoyed with that but you know what makes me s_ee red_, Clarke?"

"Your superiority complex?" She suggested, "Alright, I'll play. What makes you see red, Bellamy?"

"The fact you not only put your life in danger, but the life of one of the camp's favorite people. The guy with the alcohol!" He raised his voice, coughed and tried to maintain the calm façade. "You can explain yourself at any time."

"I'm not going to explain myself."

He let out a bitter laugh, "What do you mean you're not going to explain yourself?" His voice was getting more serious.

"I. Am. Not. Going. To. Explain. Myself." Clarke repeated, emphasizing every word. "I. A-M. N-O-T—"

"I don't need a spelling lesson, dammit! Why did you leave?"

"You or the camp?" She crossed her arms.

He shook his head, stammering because he really wasn't sure which explanation he wanted more. "You're being difficult."

"I can show you difficult." Clarke said, "Just let it go. I don't need a lecture. I did it, can't change it now. It's over. I'm not going to apologize for leaving to camp—it's not exactly like we left anyone worrying about us. Everyone was asleep…I can make it difficult, Bellamy—for you."

"I know you can, princess. You're doing a pretty great job making it _extremely _difficult right now."

She rolled her eyes, "Such a _guy_…I guess you are more agreeable when you're thinking of me naked, though." She stepped closer to him, "We can have sex right now on the table if you want." She winked. He let out an uneasy laugh and started going for the button of his pants. "Easy tiger, I was only joking."

He frowned, "Not funny."

"I think it is." She said, dropping to her knees before him. He stopped breathing until she sat down on her butt and pulled her leg to her. She rolled up her pants, craning her head to the side to look at the damage. "You didn't really think I was about to blow you in the place I treat people's wounds, did you?" She mumbled, her voice far off as she became distracted by the bruising and little bits of peeling skin.

He cleared his throat, "I was kind of hoping."

"I guess you should use your imagination because that is never happening." She informed him, "Probably be the worst blow job of your life anyway."

"Why's that?"

"Well seeing as I've only had sex with two people—one being a onetime thing, the other being last night…not really experienced in that department. Foreplay is not my forte." She admitted, "Can you had me the really strong moonshine. It's third from the left… yeah, not for drinking so don't even think about it." He handed her the jar and stuck her small hand in it for a second, pulling it out when her fingers were wet. She rubbed it on her wound just in case and handed the jar back to him.

"So the one-time thing? Finn?"

"Yeah." Clarke said, "Of all the people, right? I have to hook up with the guy with the girlfriend…the same guy that doesn't know how to let go. I don't want to talk about this. I just didn't want you to get your hopes up."

"I imagine you can be taught almost anything." He purred, "I wouldn't toss out the idea just yet."

"My sexual mentor." Clarke laughed as she stood up, "So that's why girls sleep with older guys…"

"Among other things." He winked, "You're staying the night tonight. All night."

"I'm obligated to wait three days before I sleep with you again." Clarke said, "Sorry."

"Tease."

"Always."

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